The Last of Us
by monkkie-jedi
Summary: Maka had a family when the infection overtook the world. A husband. A son. But it all changes when the spores spread, leaving Maka hardened and emotionally scarred. Five years later and Maka is given the task of delivering a 13 year old boy for a rebel organization before running into her ex-husband, split after the initial infection, making her question just who she should trust.


**The Last Of Us – Soul Eater**

**A/N: Having just recently finished ****The Last of Us**** (which I would suggest to any gamer btw), I got the idea of a crossover. But instead of Joel, the main character is Maka.**

_**Maka had a family before the infection spread. When it started, though, her son was the first to go. She lived, but never got over her survivor's guilt and ended up separated from her husband after disagreements pulled them apart. But when Maka and her current partner in crime are given the task of delivering a young teenage boy for Kishin, a rebel organization, she is reluctant to agree. So when she ends up finding out just how important this child is, she finds herself in for a long journey through infected and bandit populated cities before finding that things are rarely as easy as they first appear.**_

**It will follow the plot of the game to an extent but will be different in some areas. **

**Prologue**

Maka couldn't remember exactly what she'd been doing before she'd gotten home. But she vividly remembered the sight that had greeted her. Blaise had been laying on the couch and his red hair that had grown through the summer had become mussed and stuck up this way and that. He was tall and gangly for his age, nearly reaching the height of her chest. His skin was a copy of his father's darker complexion instead of her creamy pale color and Maka knew that emerald irises hid behind his lids, closed from exhaustion.

Sighing, Maka collapsed on the other end of the couch and rubbed a hand across the back of her neck as the day's events finally hit her. Work had been a pain; the day had ended with a grand total of thirteen misplaced files and a new worker who knew nothing about her new post. Thinking back, she didn't think that things could have gone much worse unless—

"What time is it?"

Maka would admit that his quiet voice had scared the crap out of her. She'd nearly jumped right out of her skin, she thought, putting a hand to her chest as she tried to calm her racing heart before she turned to her son with a wry smile. "Blaze, if I didn't know any better I'd say that you were trying to scare your momma half to death. And what are you still doing up? It's way past your bed time baby," Maka replied, looking up at the clock with a frown.

It was only a few minutes 'til midnight when her son pulled out that cheesy white box that she knew held jewelry her son had 'bought' for her with the help of his dad. "Blaze, you didn't have to get me anything. You and poppa always do so much for me," She said, only taking it when he pushed it into her awaiting hands.

"I _wanted_to get you something momma! Plus poppa said that you deserved it…he helped pay for it!" He said excitedly, tiredly. Absently he rubbed his eyes as he watched, giving a tiny smile with his yawn when he noticed his mom's tear filled smile.

Inside was a gold bracelet with tiny jeweled charms that matched the familiar green and red of her memory. The metal was obviously fake but Maka couldn't bring it in herself care when it was coming from her little red haired boy. "Oh, honey…it's perfect. Thank you. Now come here and give me a hug," She murmured, sighing contentedly when he settled into her arms.

It only took a few minutes before he was out and she was patting him gently on his sleepy head. There was no way she'd be able to carry him and there was no doubt that her husband was probably asleep by now. He'd been working earlier than her and had even taken responsibility of taking care of Blaze for an afternoon while she'd taken time to sort out her problems at work. It had been a pain in the butt to work on her birthday, but it had been worth it coming home to find her little boy waiting up for her.

Which wasn't the case when she got to her room, where the bed was empty and untouched without a trace of her husband. But when she heard the groans of her nearby son's bedroom door and a deep, hushed whisper, she allowed herself a moment to relax as she headed to the bathroom to shower.

The hot, near scalding water did wonders for her tense muscles while she bathed, steam fogging her vision as she absently listened to the silence around the house. But it didn't last. Before too long Maka could hear the beginnings of the jazz that usually emanated from the study and she gave herself a moment to revel in the normalcy before she finally decided to remove herself from the warmth of the bathroom.

She pulled on one of his oversized T-shirts that hung off of one shoulder and a pair of his boxer briefs that she usually kept for sleeping in before she finally waltzed down the stairs. As she'd thought, he'd been nice enough to pick up Blaze and bring him upstairs to his room where he would sleep until the early hours of the morning. If they were lucky they'd be able to get a couple of extra hours because of how late he'd stayed up, but it was a _very_slim chance. He was an early riser—earlier than even his momma, which was a feat in and of its self.

But when she walked into the study expecting to find her love perched over some new musical master piece, Maka was entirely surprised when, instead, she found the deafening sound of a gunshot and the sight of her neighbor laying at his feet, bloody and dead.

The rest was a blur as another neighbor ran headfirst into their backdoor, smearing blood across it as her husband pulled out their two pistols—bought only to be used in case of emergencies—and reloaded two full clips and handed one off to her. "Hold this and don't let _anyone_in."

He moved through the house like lightning, waking up Blaze before Maka could even start thinking again and telling him that _everything's going to be okay. Grab a couple of shirts and pants we're leaving. It's going to be okay Blaze. Be brave for momma._

That's when Maka finally reacted, noticing that she had absently taken the gun handed to her before placing it in the waistband of the shorts she wore. She followed his example, grabbing as little as necessary before turning to her son, whose eyes were filled with confusion. _Be like poppa. Be brave like poppa and help momma. That's it, bring the bag to poppa. You're doing great baby, you're doing so great._

Her husband pulled the two of them out of the house and into the car, pushing the aging car to its limit as they tried to get through the maze that is now their town. Cars are flipped and wrecked while hordes of people are running through the streets trying to get away from what Maka can only guess are others that have started to change like her former neighbors. "Shit, everyone was thinking of going out this way," Maka finally hears him say as he hightails it back to where they came from.

It's hard for them to navigate the roads as the people stampeded in every which direction, trying to escape some unseen threat. But just when Maka is about to tell him to turn around, head in a different direction, anything other than _this_way, she turned her head to find a bright flash of light before everything went completely dark.

It had seemed like only a moment had passed when Maka had come to, blinking stars out of her vision. She checked everything from her head down to her toes and only winced when she tried to move her left arm. When she looked down, it was bleeding right below the elbow to her wrist, but shallowly and not enough to worry about when they needed to get up, _now_.

Maka was the first one to come to, before her husband and son start to stir and she can hear his muffled curses before the sound of the glass windshield breaking, the tinkling of glass pieces hitting the ground. Her son puts on a brave face as he gets out of the car, tears pooled in his eyes as he looked up at his mom. She wrapped her good arm around him once they managed to wrangle themselves out of the overturned car and murmured how great he was, how good, hoping to alleviate the emotional overload.

He sniffled once, twice, before Maka finally looked up at her husband and nodded, directing him to take the lead. Her pistol had, somehow, stayed in the waistband of the shorts and she made sure that it was loaded before they started moving again. It was just as difficult moving around the town on foot than it was in the car but they somehow managed, going from building to building by going through alleys.

The first one they found had surprised them in the bar that Maka had frequented even as a teenager, before Blaze had become a part of her life at the age of sixteen. It had jumped out from behind the bar and had nearly caught Maka if it weren't for her husband's quick reaction and good aim. The…_thing_had barely laid a hand on her hurt arm before she heard one of the countless gunshots from throughout the night. The blood splattered and Maka barely had enough time to cover Blaze before it covered her.

With the blood that covered not only her but some of the counter and floor, Maka now knew why every single infected in the area had flocked to the bar. It was a tantalizing tease, made evident through the banging on the door that they had just closed behind them.

"Take Blaze and get out of the town. I'll keep them busy so that you two can get a head start," Maka remembered her husband saying to her, ignoring her outraged look to give her a quick kiss. "Get the hell out of here. They're going to break through the door. And remember your pistol," He reminded her, pushing her closer to the back and their escape.

Maka could hear the door breaking down before they'd even left. The sound of gunshots followed in her wake, loud and piercing even in the middle of the utter chaos that had taken the town. People were screaming, both the healthy and the infected, but Maka and Blaze managed to avoid the crowds by going through back alleys and buildings that Maka had frequented as a kid and later on as a teenager. In almost no time they were at the edge of their small city and the blonde haired emerald eyed woman was nearly in tears due to her relief.

But then she and Blaze walked up a hill, into the light of a flashlight. Things froze as she heard the commanding voice. _Stop where you are. Drop your weapon. Get on your knees. Freeze._But Maka couldn't make herself obey. All she could think of was getting her son past this man, getting him to safety. It didn't matter though as the both of them stilled, their faces matching each others' panic and anxiety. Blaze looked terrified, listening to the soldier's conversation. It consisted mostly of static – until Maka heard the terrible words.

"But sir, there's a little kid with her…o-okay. Yes sir. Will do, sir," He replied, turning his mask covered head back in Maka's direction. If she didn't know any better, she'd say that he even looked a little remorseful, looking through that mask, knowing what was going to happen. And when the man raised his gun to his eye, she swore she could hear him say _I'm sorry._

She attempted to turn and protect Blaze but the two stumbled when the shots went off, sending them rolling down the hill until they stopped on flattened ground. But the man followed, gun in hand as Maka fought to stumble in front of her son. _Please, you can't! We're just trying to get out of here!_But her pleas went unanswered as the man raised the gun once more and Maka closed her eyes, expecting the bullet that would put her out of commission. Maka prayed that some way, somehow, someone would save her son in the last moments of her life. That was all she wanted; all that she _needed_.

But when she finally heard the gunshot, the bullet didn't come. She felt nothing, knew she wasn't dead. So she opened her eyes to figure out what had happened, only to find the soldier, suffering with gunshot in the knee where he had stood only a few moments before. "Wha-what happened?" She remembers asking, looking up to find her husband's worried, remorseless gaze. "You found us! Oh god, thank god, thought we'd never see you again…" She murmured as she ran to him, expecting to hear her son's familiar mumbling close behind.

But then she heard her husband's cursing and she turned around to find that she hadn't been as good as she'd thought. She hadn't managed to cover him, hadn't protected him like she had promised to when he'd been born eight, nearly nine years ago. She…she had failed.

And her evidence lay at the foot of the hill, taking in shallow, rasping breaths that began to worsen almost immediately. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as Maka rushed to his side, pressing a firm hand against the wound on his chest as his light blue pajama shirt began to turn dull red. She heard his cries and sobs as she tried to hold back her own, trying to stop the bleeding. _It'll be okay Blaze, poppa is gonna pick you up and we're going to get out of here. It's going to hurt but we're gonna get you some help. Momma and poppa are gonna get you some help but it's gonna hurt it'll be okay I promise._

But before Maka could even put her arms around him, his final breath escaped and his eyes closed with a hint of a smile. Her tears that she had been holding back since early that night finally fell, but for an entirely different reason. Her husband fell to his knees beside her, clutching his ruined shirt in his hands.

And that was when Maka remembered it. The moment she'd snapped.

She got up with rigid movements, her fist clenched around the trigger of her pistol. The soldier remained where he had fallen only minutes before. She moved with determined steps, her eyes set in a glare as she lifted the gun. That's when she remembered the begging. She could hear it as she approached, pleading for her to stop, to_ please spare me, he wouldn't hurt them, he would let them through, just please god spare him._

But Maka had already passed her judgment on him as she raised the sight to eye level, aiming for his knee. "Sorry. God isn't here," She murmured, sending a shot right into his knee, shattering it to pieces. "_Burn in hell."_And in the middle of his eyes, a perfectly round wound, ending the man's pain—more mercy than he had shown her son.

His death did nothing to console the anger. It stewed inside of her and didn't subside even when her husband wrapped his arms around her petite frame, pushing her, telling her that they had to go, _now_, if they wanted to avoid other soldiers that would come to see what the shots were about.

Maka didn't willingly turn away, pulled away with her husband's rough grip as he forced her to escape the death and destruction behind them.

And the sad thing was that, even after five years, Maka couldn't be sure whether she was more heartbroken or relieved that her son hadn't survived to see the dawn.


End file.
